AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Fanny’s mind spun. “But how? Does he know what I look like? When he sees me he will change his mind, surely.”
Lady Caldwell’s arm twitched, then lifted, ever so slowly up to Fanny’s face. She tried not to move or cringe when Lady Caldwell’s fingers traced over the scars on the right side—a mark that would forever remind her of fire and pain and an ugliness she couldn’t escape. The largest of the scars began at Fanny’s eyebrow, snaking down her cheek and ending under her chin. Her mother and father had never escaped the fire. Sometimes she wished she hadn’t either. Not if she was forced to live like this forever—to always be looked upon with disdain, and to always draw appalled expressions from every gentleman she dared to adore. She had been cast aside by a man already because of the accident, and Fanny didn’t plan for it to happen again.
Fanny reached up and grasped her grandmother’s wrist, lowering her quaking hand to the bed. Lady Caldwell stared at her, long and hard, and she grew even more uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “He does not know.”
Fanny drew a deep breath. “Then surely Mr. Wellington will not take me as his wife once he sees me. He will be far too ashamed. He won’t wish to look upon me every day when there might very well be another woman much prettier that is also capable of…” she paused, “did you say, looking after him? Is he…old?” she grimaced.
Lady Caldwell’s throat bobbed with a labored swallow. “No, but he does require assistance with all his daily activities. Much of his staff has left for undisclosed reasons, and as the man of my correspondence put it, he has need of a quiet, shy, amiable sort of woman. I assured him that you are in possession of all three qualities.
Fanny scowled. “Quiet? Shy?”
“Oh, fiddle! I may have told him a bit of a lie.” Lady Caldwell’s lips twitched into a grin. “It is remarkable the advantages this marriage entails for both parties. You shall have a beautiful place to live, an immense allowance, and much freedom. In return, he shall have a companion to fulfill his needs. And the reason your worries are irrelevant, dear Fanny, is because he shallnotsee you.”
“I don’t understand—”
“The man is blind.”
The revelation struck her silent. Blind? Her eyes widened to round circles. Cold sweat trickled between her shoulders and she pushed away from the bed to stand. Was this truly her grandmother’s wish? That Fanny marry a man she had never met—a blind man—that she would be responsible for looking after as if he were a child? The idea sickened her. It would be a marriage to the law but nothing more. Was such a life truly better than living alone on the streets or as a lady’s maid? Fanny had her doubts, to be sure.
“Worry not, dear girl. All the arrangements are in place.” The protruding bone on Lady Caldwell’s chest trembled with each word. “I shall be gone very soon. Please assure me that you will follow through with this. Assure me that you will fulfill my request.” Her grip tightened around Fanny’s hand. Her breathing became even more shallow and quick, as if counting off the seconds that remained for Fanny’s reply and for her life, as if the two were intertwined.
Fanny’s heart raced and tears fell unbidden down her face. “Yes.” Her voice shook. “I will. I will do it for you.”
After all, how could she not? She couldn’t deny Lady Caldwell her dying wish, not after all her grandmother had done for her these past years.
For a moment Lady Caldwell’s face contorted in effort, then relaxed into a look of contentment. Fanny counted three seconds, three flutters of her eyelids, before they closed forever. Lady Caldwell’s grip on her hand fell away, and she was still.
Fanny didn’t know how long she stayed there, too shocked to move, but eventually the door to her grandmother’s bedchamber opened and the doctor hurried in. Fanny turned her gaze over her shoulder without a sound. The doctor stopped, eyes fixed on the large bed, but no words were exchanged. As Fanny passed the doorway, she pretended she didn’t see the housekeeper’s tears. Molly had never been one to cry.
With anguish in her steps, Fanny ran up the stairs to her bedchamber. She collapsed on her bed and tried her hardest to stop her tears. Lady Caldwell’s suffering was over, but Fanny wondered if hers would ever end. Her future was written, and Fanny cursed fate for leaving her in such an unfair situation. How could this man, this Percy Wellington, be comfortable with the arrangement? Would he not wish to meet her first? Her grandmother had said he owned a beautiful home, but Fanny knew a pretty house could not make up for friendship, love, and companionship. She had never aspired to a marriage lacking such things, but now she was entering straight into one.
Her eyes stung as she pushed away from the door and moved to her closet. Her mourning dress still hung inside, neat and heavy with harsh memories. Without wasting another second, Fanny set to work undressing.
Lady Caldwell deserved a proper mourning period from her. She would wear black as long as she was able, for in a fortnight she would be forced to wear white.
CHAPTER2
The cousin of Percy Wellington was a rigid, gruff sort of man, but he possessed a weakness that Percy could hardly tolerate—a soft heart. And a propensity for meddling in Percy’s affairs.
“What have you done?” Percy nearly dropped his glass of port. He turned his head toward the sound of his cousin’s consistent tapping. Percy wasn’t sure what made the sound, but he imagined it was his cane rapping against the floor. Percy gave a frustrated sigh. “Harry. I thought I made myself quite clear on the matter of marriage.”
“When was I ever one to obey you?” Harry said in a flippant voice. “You don’t intimidate me like you do everyone else. You cannot simply dismiss me like you dismissed the majority of your staff two months ago.”
“I didn’t dismiss my staff. They deserted me. How did you put it? They said I was far toodifficult? Is it because I do not smile all the time? How inexcusable. Because, of course, I have everything in the world to be happy about.” Percy’s voice was strung with bitterness and sarcasm. Every person under his employ had left besides his steward, the groundskeeper, and two maids, one of which dealt with cleaning and laundry, and the other with cooking. They avoided him, and did their duty inadequately. But Percy had been forced to raise their wages due to the quantity of work.
Harry took a deep breath. “You will be happy soon. I am sure of it. Your wife will bring you joy.”
Percy was tempted to throw his half-filled glass in the direction of Harry’s voice, if only he could trust his own aim. “I will not marry! I have come to peace with my staff’s decision to leave. I wish to be alone. Are you really too simpleminded to understand?”
Harry stuttered, a choked sound in his throat. “You ungrateful—” he stopped and gave an audible breath. “Do you think I enjoy traveling to your home so often to assure myself that you are still alive? To make certain you haven’t wandered off and gotten yourself lost or—or worse? My financial state is strained already. I have tried to tolerate your unkindness to me these months, but I cannot do it any longer.”
Anger washed over Percy in waves. “Then leave! I don’t need anyone to look after me. I am twenty-five years old! You have pretended to be my father for long enough.” He cringed at the bluntness of his words. Perhaps Harry had a point.
“You really believe yourself capable of being content and happy here alone? Blast it, Percy, you are wrong.”
“I never said I wanted to be happy.” Percy traced his finger along the arm of his chair, fighting the sting in his chest. “That may be what you wish for me, but I have given up on such unrealistic pursuits.”
Harry groaned, and the tapping of his cane resumed. “Very well then. So long as you desire misery, then you shall always have it. But you must know that I am not leaving you because you want me to, but because I will no longer be in a position to visit so often.”
